Sss, sss, sss. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy your company, but you're just not my type.
No, I mean if you're going to join the Newspaper Club, you've got to work your way up to doing actual... you know, reporting! Like folding papers, delivering papers, getting more equipment, covering fluff stories like what's going on in the Flower Arranging Club that I'll probably shove on page C8. That sort of thing.
Then... THEN... you could start reporting on the big stuff and work on getting to the front page.
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Sss, sss, sss. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy your company, but you're just not my type.
No, I mean if you're going to join the Newspaper Club, you've got to work your way up to doing actual... you know, reporting! Like folding papers, delivering papers, getting more equipment, covering fluff stories like what's going on in the Flower Arranging Club that I'll probably shove on page C8. That sort of thing.
Then... THEN... you could start reporting on the big stuff and work on getting to the front page.
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[It's hard to tell if he's really that disappointed. After all, he still had some time to consider his options.]
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[mostly because she was the entirety of the Newspaper Club for the past few years and she needed to]
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Rgh... Fine. I need to keep cover somehow if I'm gonna have to avoid this mess again.
[Is she observant enough to notice how much he seems to be exaggerating his fustration here?]
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This?! The killing games?
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Kaahk! Right... this... mess.
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I'm not going back to that game I was pulled from if I can help it.
[He is detirmined to sneak out.]